One of the Best
by govgal
Summary: Peter and Neal are working on a mortgage fraud case when tragedy occurs.  How will Peter & Elle react when Neal stops being Neal?
1. Chapter 1

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA. Any other characters or names other than NYC locations were made up by me.

A/N: This is my first fan fiction, so I'm a bit nervous, but I hope you like it. I'm not really a medical person, but I did some basic research, so hopefully it makes sense. There are 10 chapters, and I've already written them, so I should be able to post regularly. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

**Chapter 1**

Peter and Neal were sitting in Peter's office going through their latest mortgage fraud case. As usual, Neal had his feet up on Peter's desk and was reclining in his chair with his trademark fedora pulled down over his eyes.

"Neal, for the last time, would you please take your feet off my desk?"

The fedora didn't move, and neither did the body attached to it.

"Peter, I'm just taking a quick nap, besides, you haven't asked my opinion for three whole minutes. I'm getting bored, so I thought I'd take a quick nap."

"Answer me this then, we have five different couples who all bought townhomes in a re-developed part of The Bronx, and they've all received eviction notices within the last month for non-payment of rent. We've questioned all five couples, and they all have cancelled check stubs, although no receipt from the mortgage company. So where did the money go?"

"Quite obviously it's a shell company created for this nefarious purpose, and you didn't need me to tell you that."

Neal still hadn't moved, and was clearly bored by Peter's question, but he couldn't resist teasing Peter.

"You wanted me to ask you a question; you didn't say it had to be a good one."

Peter smirked, not sure if Neal could see him from under the hat.

"We're still trying to track down this mysterious and, according to you, nefarious MEC Company. The Operating Officer listed turns out to be a phony name; it's not pulling up in any of our databases. The couples swear they met with this Kris Montoya who they signed the paperwork with."

"I don't suppose you have any pictures that we could scan for facial recognition?"

"No, who takes pictures at a closing?"

"Peter, think about it, maybe not at closing, but someone would have to show it to you to begin with, and if this is your first home wouldn't you be extremely excited? Wouldn't you want pictures? There is a chance that you could at least get the realtor in the picture. When you & Elizabeth bought your home, did you take pictures of it before you bought it?"

"I don't remember, Elle takes all the pictures. I don't even know how to use our camera."

Neal chuckled, trying to cover his laughter.

"So, this must be why Jones takes all the surveillance photos?"

Peter glared at him, not willing to admit that at one time he had taken some surveillance photos of Elle before they were married, but Neal would have way too much fun with that information. Peter decided to retaliate instead by simply reaching over and pushing Neal's feet off the desk. It was only Neal's quick thinking that allowed him not to fall backward with his chair or break his neck at his sudden change in position.

Once Neal had righted himself, had both feet securely on the floor, and had his fedora back on his head, he gave Peter a nasty glare.

"Hey, careful, you don't want to lose all my expert knowledge from a freak accident where I break my neck, do you? Honestly, Peter, I don't know why I put up with you."

"Put up with me?"

Peter was the one that chuckled this time.

"Because if you don't you could be tangling with those nice people in orange jumpsuits who will know that you couldn't cut it working with the FBI; your charms won't be able to save you in there."

Neal didn't reply, but had a stubborn and sullen look on his face.

"Come on, let's go check out the last known address for this supposed MEC Company and see if we can find out anything before my headache gets worse."

Peter grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. Neal stood up more slowly, grumbling before shuffling after Peter.

"You know if you wore a hat, you could take a nap more often. Then maybe you wouldn't have all these headaches and you wouldn't think I was as annoying."

"Not likely."

Peter chuckled.

"Hurry up, I'm holding the elevator."

Unfortunately for Peter that didn't seem to have any effect on Neal's shuffling pace.

"You should be excited… this is out of your two miles radius."

Peter snuck a look over at Neal to see his facial reaction, and Neal plastered a really fake smile on just to annoy him.

"Yeah, Peter, I'm so excited! Can I play with the map thingy again?"

Peter just groaned as the elevator doors opened and they walked toward the parking garage to take Peter's Taurus.

##

Peter and Neal discovered that the address for MEC Company was an abandoned building in a not so good area of The Bronx.

"Peter, this is creepy, let's just go. I don't think we're going to find anything here."

They had just stepped inside the building as Peter had tried the door handle and found it open. It looked like it had recently been occupied. The open sign was still dangling on the inside of the front door, but the desks had been emptied. It looked like the occupants had taken all the files and left all of the office furniture behind; probably in somewhat of a hurry. There was another open door to a warehouse area that had elevated stacks of large plastic tubing and piles of lumber. Peter guessed that the offices were a front for some sort of illegal business back here, and maybe the two were related. Peter was also trying to think how they could have been tipped off to evacuate, when he heard footsteps, but they sounded like they were above him. He looked to see if it was Neal, but he was standing still several yards ahead of him, taking inventory of the contents of the warehouse with his back to one of the piles. Peter didn't see the plastic tubing move until it was too late. Once one started, they all seemed to be rolling, and all heading straight for Neal.

Neal heard the rumbling sound, but didn't realize what it was until it was too late. He was hit first in the back of the head and knocked to the ground, feebly trying to protect himself with his hands, but it was too late as the tubing kept falling gaining in momentum until all of them had rolled down; some rolling down over Neal and not stopping until they had reached the other side of the warehouse.

Peter looked on in horror as he saw the plastic tubing take out Neal, who collapsed to the floor. Peter realized there was nothing he could do to stop it, and had to let nature take its course or be swallowed up himself. He was relieved that some of the tubes kept rolling so that he wouldn't have to dig Neal out from under all of them.

As soon as they stopped, Peter raced to the area he had last seen Neal, and struggled to roll the tubes away; desperate to see some sign of Neal's body.

"Neal! Neal!"

Peter didn't know why he was yelling, it wasn't likely Neal could respond, but he yelled anyway, just in case.

Peter had moved several more tubes away before he saw a pair of black dress trousers. He felt a new surge of adrenaline as he feverishly worked to clear the area around Neal. Neal was laying face down, and there was a big bloody gash on the back of his head where Peter presumed he had first been hit.

Once Peter had cleared the area around Neal, he checked for any obvious injuries, but it didn't look like any bones were sticking out; other than a serious amount of blood, Peter was guessing most of the injuries were internal. Peter quickly pulled out his cell phone when he discovered the message 'NO SIGNAL' on his screen.

"Great! Just great!"

Having no other choice, because he was not about to leave Neal's side in case the assailant was still in the area, Peter quickly but carefully scooped Neal up, trying to keep his back as straight as possible and walked quickly back out the way they had come in. He didn't see anyone, and hoped that whoever had knocked down the plastic tubing was long gone. He was sure that this had not been an accident, but Neal needed his attention first; then maybe he could call Jones or Diana to investigate further once he had signal again. He carefully laid Neal on the hood of the Taurus for just a minute while he fished a blanket out of the trunk and laid it down in the back seat. He didn't want blood everywhere in the Taurus, and he also wanted to keep Neal warm. He tried to lay Neal down gently, but it didn't matter as Neal never even made a sound as Peter maneuvered him into the back seat, and this worried Peter intensely. Peter decided to put his flashing light in the windshield and drove like a madman to Calvary Hospital, which was the nearest hospital he could think of in The Bronx. He wasn't tremendously familiar with the area, but he had visited a friend of his there once so he felt comfortable taking Neal there.

Peter screeched up to the emergency room exit, lights still flashing, and ran into the emergency room.

"Somebody, please help me!"

He was quickly surrounded by nurses who followed him out to the Taurus. They expertly lifted Neal onto the gurney and disappeared through some swinging double doors.

Peter stood there just staring at the doors for several minutes, before a nurse gently touched his shoulder.

"Sir? Sir?"

"Hmm?"

Peter tried to shake himself out of his thoughts.

"What is the name of the patient you just brought in?"

The nurse asked gently, but it still took Peter a few seconds to break through his shock before answering.

"His name is Neal Caffrey. He works for the FBI. He's my partner."

Peter then took out his own badge to show her.

"I'm Agent Peter Burke. He's my partner. We're partners."

The nurse finished writing and then looked up at him as if realizing he was still in shock. She came around the desk, took his hand and led him to a chair.

"Why don't you sit here for just a minute, and then you can move your car. Ok?"

Peter had already forgotten about his car, but a glance outside showed that the Taurus was still sitting there with the red lights flashing in the windshield. His feet felt like lead, and he just couldn't move at the moment, so he pulled out his cell phone, relieved to see that he had signal again, and called his wife.

"What's up, honey?"

Elle's sweet voice came over the line, and Peter felt relief washing over him at hearing her voice.

"Elle, I…I'm fine…I need you...I'm at Calvary Hospital…"

"Peter, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"No...No…I'm fine, but it's…it's Neal, there's been an accident."

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Peter, it's ok. Neal will be ok."

Peter decided disagreeing with his wife over the phone would not be a smart idea. She would see soon enough for herself how bad it was, and then she might be mad at him for not protecting Neal, protective as she was about him. He marveled at her mothering instincts with Neal; he was too old to be her son, but that didn't seem to stop Elle from mothering him whenever possible. Despite his fear of her reaction at Neal's condition, he desperately needed her in his arms to reassure him that everything would be ok.


	2. Chapter 2

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

A/N: You guys are so awesome! Thank you all for the kind reviews, and the story / author alerts, they are so greatly appreciated! So, for those of you begging for more, here's the next chapter.

**Chapter 2**

Elle got out of the cab at the emergency room entrance, noticing Peter's Taurus still sitting there with its red lights flashing. She felt fortunate he had at least remembered to turn the car off. She felt a bit disconcerted when she found him sitting inside the waiting area in a chair staring at the wall and didn't even hear her walk in.

"Peter, do you have the keys to the Taurus?"

Peter turned hearing a voice he thought was familiar and found his wife standing next to him with an expectant look on her face.

He gave her a blank look in return.

"I'm sorry Elle, did you say something?"

He honestly didn't remember what she had asked.

"I asked you for the keys to the Taurus, it's still sitting outside with the lights flashing. I'll move it for you."

Peter wondered what he had done with the keys, but fortunately, he found that he at least had the presence of mind to stick them in his pocket.

##

Peter and Elle were both sipping coffee in the waiting room, Peter with one hand around Elle as if afraid to let her go, when a doctor walked in.

"Agent Peter Burke?"

"That's me."

The doctor walked toward them and extended his hand to Peter.

"My name is Dr. Bryan Worthington. I'm Mr. Caffrey's doctor."

He shook Peter's hand and was introduced to Elle.

"As you may know, Mr. Caffrey has some pretty serious injuries. May I ask what happened?"

"We were investigating a lead on a case, and Neal was caught under some falling pieces of large plastic tubing."

"Aahh, well that would be consistent with the injuries to his back, and the blow to his head."

Elle couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"So what does this mean? Can he survive? Will he be paralyzed?"

Dr. Worthington could see the tears building in her eyes and realized that there must be a special relationship between Elle and Neal as well. He had seen plenty of cops in here with a partner that had been shot in the line of duty, but he couldn't remember the wife of any of the cops being involved this emotionally.

"It's hard to tell right now, we've got him on some powerful steroids to reduce the inflammation around his spine, and once the infection has gone down we'll be better able to see what the damage is. Right now his whole chest is in a rigid cast so that he doesn't unintentionally move his back any more than absolutely necessary. His right leg is broken and is set in a cast, and his right arm was badly dislocated at the shoulder. It seems likely that he was standing at a slight angle when the tubing hit him because his right side took the brunt of the injuries. His left side is still pretty banged up, but we haven't found anything broken, just seriously bruised."

Dr. Worthington really hated talking to the patient's families. It was the worst part of the job because he always had to see the desperate looks. He felt his heart breaking as he looked at the way Elle was gripping her husband's arm. For that matter, Peter didn't look much better and Dr. Worthington was amazed that both of them were still standing the way they looked.

"Can we see him?"

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I don't think that will give you any comfort because as bad as it sounds, I can assure you it looks even worse."

"We'll take that chance."

Peter had finally found his voice, and knew that no reasonable discussion was going to keep Elle away from seeing Neal.

"Ok. He's in room 549. Take the elevator to the 5th floor, the nurses up there can show you the way. I'm sure I'll be talking with you again."

Dr. Worthington excused himself and disappeared through those dreaded double doors.

"Are you sure you want to go up there, Elle?"

It was a rhetorical question Peter knew, even as he bothered to ask.

"He needs us there Peter. I don't want him to be all alone. It's something we can do for him."

Peter just slowly nodded as he led his wife to the elevator just on the other side of the reception desk.

##

Neal looked worse than either of them had expected, even with the doctor's warning. Peter felt sick that he hadn't done something more to protect Neal. Why hadn't he run forward and pushed Neal out of the way? Why weren't his reflexes faster? Why was he compelled to check out the building that day?

Neal had just been really getting on his nerves about being bored, so he had wanted to do something out of the office so that maybe Neal would stop complaining, and now it was all Peter's fault. What would happen if Neal never woke up?

The guilt was sitting so heavily on Peter's shoulders that he was starting to feel nauseous and really needed to sit down, but he felt Elle tugging him closer and closer to the bed where his charge…his responsibility… was lying unconscious all because of him; he couldn't stand it anymore. He twisted his way out of Elle's grip and ran to the bathroom in the small hospital room where he promptly emptied the contents of his stomach and then sank to the floor.

##

Elle felt Peter twisting his hand out of her grip and didn't try to stop him. She figured he was probably overwhelmed at seeing the figure on the bed. If they hadn't been shown the room by the nurse Elle would have sworn they had the wrong room; the man on the bed looked nothing like Neal. The steady beeping of the heart monitor, the flow of oxygen into his lungs, and the IV line dripping life saving medicine were all noises designed to help Neal survive this awful accident.

Elle gripped Neal's left hand, and watched the IV fluid drip slowly into his body; willing it to save his life and heal his many injuries. She noticed fluid outside of the IV and realized that her tears were splashing on his hand. She wished that somehow they could help him as well.

##

After three intensely stressful days for both Peter and Elle, Neal was still unconscious. Elle was devastated that she couldn't stay by Neal's bedside any longer, but she had a huge gala to prepare for and it wasn't going to run itself. Peter had gone back to the office because the mortgage fraud case had some breaking developments. Diana and Jones were able to get ahold of some pictures the couples had taken of their new homes, based on Neal's suggestion. They were trying to track down the realtor seen in many of the pictures.

Elle was about to leave again when Dr. Worthington came in to check on Neal.

"How is he doing Doctor?"

Elle held her breath hoping beyond hope for some good news.

"Well, the steroids appear to be working, the inflammation is going down, and we will soon be able to see the extent of his injuries. He has survived well over the first 24 hours, which if it is a spinal cord injury is great news."

Dr. Worthington had been trying to give Elle some hope that survival was possible, but she instead she looked very confused.

"Again, Mrs. Burke, it totally depends on the extent of the injuries Mr. Caffrey suffered, but there is a good chance that even if he has serious injuries to his spine he would be able to survive for some extended period of years."

Dr. Worthington was trying to explain patiently, but he didn't think Elle was able to understand the complexity of the situation - spinal injuries never ended well.

Elle's face changed over to something infinitely more stubborn.

"You'll see. Neal will wake up, and…and he's going to be ok."

Taking another look at Elle, Dr. Worthington decided it would be best not to argue with the woman, and turned and walked out the door.

Elle gently lifted Neal's left hand again, kissing it softly.

"Neal, I know you will wake up. I know it and we can all fight this together. I know you can do this because you're a fighter. You're strong."

Elle brushed a tear away and carefully placed Neal's hand back on the bed. She walked out leaving the sound of the drips, the beeps and everything else behind.


	3. Chapter 3

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

A/N: So here's another chapter…I hope you enjoy it. Thanks again to all of you who took the time to review it and give me some pointers, and thanks to everyone who has it on story alert. I hope you are not disappointed!

**Chapter 3**

"I have good news and bad news."

Dr. Worthington looked up at both Peter and Elle standing next to Neal's bed.

"Which would you like first?"

"Good."

"Bad."

"Fine. Whatever. Start with the good news, Doctor."

Peter mumbled, letting his wife win again. Elle shot him a grateful look.

"The swelling has gone down, and we've determined that Neal has a broken back. This means that some bones around the spinal cord have been broken, but not the spine itself."

"I thought this was supposed to be the good news?"

Peter looked at Dr. Worthington with budding anger, and the doctor looked quite confused.

"Would you rather have him be a quadriplegic? I don't think so."

Elle realized her husband wasn't handling the good news very well, and the doctor's attitude wasn't helping. Peter was already stressed out to the max, and Elle was afraid that just one more word or action that he perceived as negative would send him over the edge. Peter had his arm around her, and she could feel him tense up. What could she possibly do to release that tension before it exploded and destroyed everything around her…including the doctor?

Elle turned in his arms, and gave him a big bear hug, squeezing him as tight as she possibly could before letting go.

"See honey, this means that Neal is not paralyzed, right doctor? That sounds great!"

Elle didn't think her cheery comment would fool Peter, but she just had to distract him long enough that he could have a chance to calm down and stop shooting daggers at the doctor with his eyes.

"Yes. In Neal's case, it looks like there was serious bruising, or contusions as they are called, that were very evident on the MRI, but the spine itself seems to be intact. With proper medication, and plenty of rest, the bones around the spine should heal as well as the bruising."

When neither Peter nor Elle said anything - both still trying to decide how good this news was - Dr. Worthington felt the need to clarify.

"This really is the good news. He should be able to fully function over an extended period of time, as long as he is allowed to recover slowly. He will need to have surgery, in the next day or two, and make sure everything is lining up correctly, but it's a fairly safe procedure. If I may say, Neal is one very _very_ lucky guy."

"Well, I just can't wait to hear the bad news then."

Peter muttered this loud enough for both Elle and Dr. Worthington to hear. Elle was gripping his hand attempting to keep him as calm as possible, but not sure she was succeeding.

"I understand your frustration, Agent Burke. I really do. We are doing the best we can. What is troubling is the fact that he hasn't woken up yet; that could be an indication of a serious brain injury. Unfortunately, we aren't sure how serious until he wakes up."

Elle let go of Peter's hand and reached out for the doctor's.

"Thank you. Really, we do appreciate everything you have done for Neal."

Dr. Worthington shook her hand, smiled briefly and walked out the door breathing a sigh of relief that the conversation was over. He had offered them as much hope as he possibly could, but he was still deeply concerned for Neal.

##

Peter felt another headache coming on. He was reminded of Neal's comment about wearing a hat just so he could take more naps to avoid these headaches. It was amusing that even unconscious Neal could still manage to haunt him. Peter then remembered their last conversation before heading out to investigate MEC Company and his face got noticeably paler.

"_When you & Elizabeth bought your home, did you take pictures of it before you bought it?"_

"_I don't remember, Elle takes all the pictures. I don't even know how to use our camera."_

_Neal snorted, trying to cover his laughter, "So, this must be why Jones takes all the surveillance photos?"_

_Peter glared at him, not willing to admit that at one time he had taken some surveillance photos of Elle before they were married, but Neal would have way too much fun with that information. In response, he simply reached over and pushed Neal's feet off the desk. It was only Neal's quick thinking that allowed him not to fall backward with his chair or break his neck at his sudden change in position._

_Once Neal had righted himself, had both feet securely on the floor, and his hat back on his head, he gave Peter a nasty glare. "Hey, careful, you don't want to lose all my expert knowledge from a freak accident where I break my neck, do you? Honestly, Peter, I don't know why I put up with you."_

Elle noticed that all of the sudden Peter had gotten really pale. She grabbed his hand once more and looked up into his eyes.

"Peter, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"It's nothing, Elle."

Elle gave him a stern I've-been-married-to-you-way-too-long-to-fool-me look.

Peter relented under her gaze.

"It's…It's just something Neal had said several days ago, before we went to investigate this company. He had been annoying me as usual over this mortgage case, and had his feet on my desk again. I nicely asked him to remove them, but he had several sarcastic comments, and eventually I got really annoyed and just shoved them off. Apparently, he wasn't expecting me to do that because the whole chair tipped over but he managed to catch himself from falling. He got angry and asked me if I wanted to lose all of his 'expert knowledge' by causing a freak accident where I could have broken his neck."

Peter stopped to take a deep breath.

"It's just too bizarre; he couldn't possibly have known what would happen."

"I agree, he couldn't have known. Pushing his feet off your desk may not have been an accident, but I know you didn't mean to hurt him and I know Neal knows that too, but accidents do happen, Peter, and you can't do anything to prevent them."

"Don't you think I know that? That's just it, Elle, I don't think what happened at that company was an accident. I think someone pushed those tubes over. I heard footsteps and they weren't Neal's, but I never saw anyone. It happened so fast, and I just wasn't quick enough, it's _my_ fault. He's _my_ responsibility, and I didn't protect him!"

"Peter, you really need to stop beating yourself up over this. You got him to the hospital, and he's getting the medical attention he needs. It's not like you just left him there and went after the bad guy. Did you tell Jones and Diana what happened?"

"Yeah, they didn't find anything at the warehouse though; no footprints, no fingerprints and the racks didn't have any indication that something was cut releasing the tubes, so plausibly it could have just been an accident. There's nothing more there to find…it's just a dead end."

Elle was trying to think of a way to get Peter's mind off the case for a few minutes so that this guilt trip wouldn't turn into something more morbid and drive him crazy; his stress level was already maxed out.

"Would you run down to the cafeteria and grab me a coffee? You look as if you might need one yourself."

Peter wasn't sure if she was trying to get him to leave and being nice about it, or if she really thought he needed coffee…his brain was too muddled to think clearly. He realized his headache had only gotten worse thinking about Neal. He could only hope that the coffee would help to postpone the exhaustion he felt.

"Yeah, I guess that might help. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Peter turned and walked out the door. He returned a few minutes later, and stopped just inside the door. Elle was sitting next to Neal's bed, with her hands folded, and he could see her lips moving, realizing a second later that she must be praying. Peter felt guilty that all this time he had been worrying and trying to find out who was behind this and he hadn't even said a quick prayer for Neal's recovery. He wasn't sure anyone would listen. He had stopped going to mass long ago, but he realized he desperately wanted someone to help; a higher power to believe in that would let Neal come back to them. He quietly set down the two coffees and made his way over to Elle. He knelt down and took her hands. She stopped and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He quietly offered a short prayer:

"_God, if you can hear me, it's Peter. I know I haven't talked to you in a long, long time, but I'm begging for you to help Neal. He is closer to me than a brother, he's like a son, and I so desperately want him to come back to us. I feel helpless, and I need your help, both Elle and I, we need strength to help Neal through this. Please make him well. Amen."_

Elle looked up at Peter, and realized he was crying as well.

"Thank you."

Peter pulled her into his chest and they both cried tears of hope.


	4. Chapter 4

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

A/N: so I refuse to say that Neal has blue eyes even though he told Sara that during his polygraph and it showed true on her screen, because if you've ever paused the show (and I seriously can't be the only one who does this) and looked at Neal's eyes, they are not blue! Blue green maybe but not baby blue. Enough of my ranting…on with the story.

**Chapter 4**

Elle had drifted off holding Neal's hand, but she woke up suddenly when she felt a slight pressure pushing on her fingers several times. She opened her eyes to find a pair of blue-green eyes staring back at her.

"You're awake!"

She squealed unable to contain her excitement. She wanted to give him a big hug, but realized that was impossible due to the nature of his injuries, so she just settled for squeezing his hand. She didn't want to throw anything out of alignment that the doctors had spent hours fixing.

The man on the bed, however, didn't move or respond to her enthusiasm. He just kept staring at her with those big beautiful eyes.

##

When Neal opened his eyes he felt dizzy. He tried to move, but his body just wasn't getting the message. He blinked several times, trying to adjust his pupils to the light. He tried to move just his arms, but weren't sure they were cooperating either.

He noticed a dark haired lady on his left side, but couldn't see her face. Who was she? What was she doing here? What was _he_ doing here? He honestly didn't remember any details to help him make sense of what was going on. He must have moved something enough to get the dark haired lady's attention because she lifted her head to look at him.

"You're awake!"

The dark haired lady seemed excessively excited about something, although Neal wasn't sure what. He assumed the comment was meant for him, but he didn't have any idea who this woman was or why she would care if he was awake. He had no idea what to say, so he just kept staring at her waiting for her to explain the situation. He heard a door open and saw a tall man walk up to the bed; he was wearing a suit and looked very official. Neal wondered if he was in trouble for something, but had no idea what he could possibly have done. It was likely this man just needed to talk to him about something; maybe about whatever had happened to land him here, in what he assumed was a hospital with all the beeping going on around him.

"He hasn't said a word."

The dark haired lady was speaking to the tall man.

"He just keeps staring at me with this blank look."

The tall man stood on the other side of his bed from the dark haired lady, and Neal shifted his gaze when the tall man started to speak.

"Do you know who you are? Do you remember what happened?"

Neal tried to say 'No' but his voice didn't seem to be working. He saw a look of concern pass from the tall man to the dark haired lady. He didn't recognize either of them, and was confused as to why they would care what he was doing here. They must be police or something, he reasoned. But then again, why would the dark haired lady be so excited to see him? The tall man had definitely not shown the same type of excitement, but seemed very business-like and to the point. Neal was thinking this through in his mind: the woman seemed to really care, and the man seemed to be only interested in what had happened. What did this mean?

"Mom?"

The whisper was so faint that Elle almost didn't hear it.

"Mom? Is that what you said? Mom?"

Elle excitedly squeezed Neal's hand again. Elle realized that as much as she had always wanted to hear that word in reference to herself, she knew this was not a good sign. Neal must not recognize her.

She looked up at Peter. He rephrased his question to Neal.

"Do you know what your name is?"

Those big blue-green eyes just stared back at him. Peter looked over at Elle.

"This is not a good sign. I think I'll get a nurse, and see if Dr. Worthington has a free moment to check on our patient."

Peter walked out of the room leaving Elle alone with Neal.

She was still holding his hand, and used her other one to brush some of the hair that had fallen down into his face.

"It's ok. You're awake! We're so excited! You're going to be fine."

Elle was trying to sound so encouraging to help Neal feel better, but there was a discomfort growing in the pit of her stomach that something was very, very wrong with Neal.

##

Neal felt the dark haired lady still holding his hand, and felt himself relax a bit when she ran her fingers through his hair. He felt safe. He hadn't felt so safe since he was a little kid. How did he know that? He didn't remember being a little kid. He didn't remember anything actually, and he was a bit scared when that tall man had asked him who he was and he honestly had no answer. He had no idea who he was. What he did know was that this dark haired lady seemed to be very excited that he was awake, and he felt very safe with her. She must be his mother. Who else had ever made him feel safe like this? He fell asleep with that peaceful and content thought on his mind.

##

Dr. Worthington pulled both Peter and Elle into the hallway to share his latest observation.

"He definitely is suffering from amnesia, but with a blow to the head like that, it really is to be expected. Neal seems to be suffering from what's considered a retrograde, transient amnesia."

"English please, doctor?"

Peter was trying not to be annoyed.

"Basically, retrograde means he doesn't have any memories of before the accident, and transient means it happened because of brain trauma, not something like Alzheimer's."

"Ok, that makes more sense. Is there anything we can do about it?"

"These types of cases are very tricky. There really isn't a lot we can do. He may regain some of his memories back, and there is also the possibility that he may never get his memory back. We just don't understand the brain well enough yet to answer those questions. I can tell you though, that when I talked with Neal, he seems to think that you, Elle, are his mother, and that Peter here is a scary tall guy that is a policeman who only wants to ask him questions about things he doesn't remember."

Elle laughed.

"Well, even without a memory, he's pretty much got you pegged, honey."

Peter did not look amused.

"So he has no idea who he is or why he is here?"

Peter wanted to confirm the information because he needed to report to Hughes on Neal's condition.

"Yes. That pretty much covers it. He needs to stay immobilized for several weeks while his back stabilizes from the surgery, and then we'll be able to do some physical therapy to help his muscles regain their strength, but the prognosis on that seems very good. He may need to be in a wheelchair for a while, but he should be expected to eventually walk again. The amnesia is just a different story. For the length of time he was unconscious, there are definitely more serious implications in terms of him recovering all of his memory, but like I said, you never know. The brain is a tricky thing."


	5. Chapter 5

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

A/N: Thank you, Thank you, Thank you for all the reviews! I am glad you are liking the story.

**Chapter 5**

Peter and Elle were sitting at their dining room table eating Elle's delicious home-cooked lasagna. The hospital food was just not setting well with either of them, so they had been spending more time at home so Elle could cook after both of them got off work.

"So, what's our cover story going to be?"

Elle broached the subject she had wanted to discuss all afternoon after savoring a bite of her lasagna.

"We need a cover?"

Peter seemed a bit startled at the question.

"Honey, Neal's going to start asking questions. We have to come up with a good story that's believable."

Peter was really confused; why on earth would they need a cover story?

"Why don't we just tell him who he really is?"

Elle gave Peter her best you're-not-seriously-considering-doing-that-are-you look.

"Do you really want him to go back to a life of crime? Are you planning on telling him that he's a notorious art thief who led you on a wild goose chase for years before you caught him? Are you going to tell him that he spent almost four years in jail before he escaped only to have you catch him again and send him back to prison? That definitely won't encourage him to trust you. He looks at you as the enemy right now. He sees you as a cop; not a friend."

"So, to encourage him to trust me, I should lie to him about who he is? I won't do that Elle. Neal is who he is, we can't just change him. All I asked of him after he was released into my custody was not to look for Kate and what did he do? He goes looking for Kate. He didn't even try to change. I gave him a great opportunity and he tries to blow it right away. I know he doesn't remember any of this, but it doesn't qualify him for a get-out-of-jail-free card for a new life Elle. He's still the FBI's responsibility for three more years. We can't just turn him into a regular citizen; there are still consequences."

"I know that Peter, but he's _not_ Neal and we can't keep pretending he is. This accident has made him a different person. He doesn't even know us! Dr. Worthington said his memory may never come back. Do you really want to remind him who he is so he remembers Kate, prison and all the drama with Mentor and the plane explosion? No! I won't let you. He finally has a chance for a normal life."

"Elle, this isn't normal! Having amnesia isn't normal! Having a tracking anklet and being restricted to a two mile radius IS NOT NORMAL. THERE IS NO NORMAL FOR NEAL!"

Peter's voice had risen significantly, and Elle felt challenged to meet his decibel level.

"Peter, you're NOT LISTENING to me! THERE IS NO NEAL! He doesn't exist anymore. The only thing left is a shell of a man who thinks I'm his mother, and you're a cop! DOES THAT SOUND LIKE NEAL? He's confused and he's scared. Who wouldn't be in that situation? He needs to know that we are there for him no matter what, and then actually _be there_. Do you want him to dwell on the past while he's stuck in a hospital bed unable to do anything about it because _you_ thought it was noble to bring up all his past indiscretions? This is _not_ the time to bring up his past, Peter! We need to concentrate on his future!"

As much training and experience as Peter had as an FBI agent, it was completely useless when arguing with his wife; they rarely ever fought, but when they did Elle was a woman on a mission, and not even what Peter considered to be clear, logical thinking was going to get in her way.

Neal was Neal even if he didn't remember anything at the moment, and he was going to be Neal again; Peter was certain. Neal just needed time to recover.

"Elle, look at me."

He waited until she lifted her eyes to his, grimacing at the sparks shooting out at him.

"What if he remembers? What if we've created this new persona and all of the sudden he remembers? He will never trust us again if he figures out we lied to him about who he is! Even if he doesn't remember who he is right now he has certain…tendencies, he…he may not understand them or even know why he feels that way, but Neal is Neal, he just he won't fit anywhere…anywhere normal as you want to put it."

Elle was at that moment remembering that she had married a stubborn ox and that at times he really made her mad.

"Peter, I love you to death, but you're an FBI agent. You look at the world as an FBI agent and you see the worst in people. You see a criminal and that's all you can see. What if this is Neal's chance to change but you won't let him?"

Peter was not letting her comment go this time, he'd had enough.

"You never think anything positive about me, do you? If you'd seen what I've seen after all these years on the job, you'd have a different perspective. Besides, I gave Neal a chance, didn't I? He's proven he can be an asset to the department. I don't expect him to change his stripes; I don't expect him to live a normal life. He's never going to change; it's who he is! Elle, he flat out lied to Sara on his polygraph test, and yet somehow he passed it! What does that tell you? He needs boundaries and restrictions like his anklet because he CAN'T BE TRUSTED!

Peter regretted the words as soon as he said them, because they weren't completely true. Neal was just so slippery that while Peter really was trying to trust him it seemed _every time_ he turned around there seemed to be some new complication in Neal's unauthorized search for Kate (and now her killer.) Peter knew that no matter what Neal _would_ fall for the temptation. Sara had proven that when she had Neal arrested for possession of stolen evidence from the FAA, and Peter had to talk Sara out of pressing charges. Neal was never going to learn. Even though Kate was gone and Neal didn't remember anything, Peter still couldn't bring himself to believe that Neal could really change enough to lead the normal life that Elle so desperately wanted him to have.

Elle, however, was not so willing to forgive Peter for his comment and lashed out at him.

"You are so two-faced Peter Burke! You are so concerned with your career and the risk you took getting Neal out of prison, and then you act like you are so noble because you did. You only look at him as an asset, something you can use. Can't you see that Neal wants to trust you, and he wants you to trust him? Working together has been the best thing that has ever happened to either of you! Are you really that dense? Can't you tell he was trying to change? Neither of us are perfect either, Peter!"

Peter could see the fire raging inside of Elle, and it was definitely not the romantic type. He had only seen her angry like this once or twice, and knew she wouldn't stop until she had told him what she really thought, so he remained quiet.

"What, nothing to say?"

Elle waited to see if Peter would dignify her comment with a response. He didn't.

"What are you going to do now that he is of no value to you? He obviously can't help you recover stolen artifacts or paintings anymore. He can't pull off any undercover stints in his condition; much less walk anywhere in the near future. What is he worth to you now? What use could you possibly have for someone who has no criminal intuition anymore? Is that a sign for you to just dump him back in prison because his inability to complete any assignment is a violation of your precious agreement? What other choice does he have? I'm sure you could arrange it so that he could have his physical therapy back in prison."

Elle was being overly sarcastic, but couldn't help herself. She stopped to take a deep breath. Peter didn't say a word.

"Don't you see Peter? Neal's a blank slate ready to be filled with love, friendship and family. Maybe that's what was missing before and why he chose a life of crime! Think about it! We have a chance to change his life!"

Elle looked over at Peter's face; she didn't think her reasoning had any effect on him whatsoever, and before he could stop her she grabbed her jacket and purse and disappeared out the front door. She needed to be alone.

##

Peter watched Elle grab her jacket and purse and run out the door, leaving him to clean up the dishes. He wanted to go after her, but he wasn't ready to apologize; he was still convinced he was on the right side of this argument. He cleaned up the dishes with a little more banging and clanging than necessary. It wasn't fair! He _had_ been thinking about Neal, it's all he had been doing for the last few weeks since Neal had been injured. How dare Elle insinuate that he hadn't been thinking about what was best for Neal! And what did she mean, by '_you're an FBI agent…you see the worst in people. You see a criminal and that's all you can see'.___If he really saw the worst in Neal, why would he go to such great lengths to get him released from prison, befriend him, and try to model law-abiding behavior to show Neal that it was better to solve cases the FBI way, than to go off half-cocked like he usually did. What on earth was wrong with that?

Sometimes he just didn't understand Elle, and she obviously didn't understand him; it seemed like she didn't even try and that made him mad. Peter felt his control slipping just like it had when Fowler had gotten a search warrant on Elle's business and was ransacking the place. He felt helpless and wanted to be mad at someone; currently that person was Elle. He saw a pen lying on the table that Elle had used earlier to compose their grocery list for the week. He had asked Elle to pick up some more pot roast when she went to the store, and they were having a great conversation over dinner until Elle brought up the cover story idea. That was, without a doubt, the most outrageous idea she had ever come up with. He picked up the pen and hurled it toward the front door where he had last seen Elle. He was trying to relieve his frustration and anger at her; it didn't help. He heard a woof and realized he had nailed Satch with the pen. He walked over to the dog, apologized, and scratched him behind the ears.

"You know Satch, sometimes women are just trouble, they don't think things through and yet I'm the one that always gets in trouble for it."

Satch woofed his agreement, and followed Peter to the couch anticipating a nice long tummy rub.


	6. Chapter 6

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network & Dr. Cal Lightman of Lie to Me belongs to FOX (not a crossover, just a mention)

A/N: I think it's great that there was support for **both** Peter & Elle's viewpoints in the reviews. I think they both made valid arguments!

Also, I think it would be really great if Peter had Dr. Lightman interview Neal… that would be one interesting and hopefully revealing conversation. However, I'm not smart enough to come up with it. : ( Both shows just amaze me!

**Chapter 6**

Elle found herself wandering around Central Park with no specific destination in mind. The tears were still rolling down her cheeks, and she felt her anger at Peter slowly dissipating as she walked. She had just wanted him to understand that she wanted what was best for Neal and she didn't think telling him about his past was going to make him feel better. She felt guilty now that she had mentioned Kate and the plane explosion. She just wanted Neal to be happy, have a good job, a home and family and someone that loved him. While she knew in her heart that Neal really did love Kate, she had learned enough from Peter to suspect that Kate did not share the same feelings. She felt sorry for Neal; losing a love was never easy, but now that he had no memories, she wanted to help him make new ones, encourage him and do everything she could to prevent him from ever going back to his old lifestyle.

Elle suddenly realized she had no idea how long she had been walking; she was getting a bit tired, so she found a bench to sit down and rest for a moment. She wondered if Peter was even worried about her or wondered where she had gone. She checked her cell phone, but she didn't see any missed calls. She wasn't really sure she wanted to apologize to him yet anyway; he always thought his way, the FBI way, was the best.

##

Elle still had had not returned. Peter realized this probably meant that she was even more upset than he had thought. He also admitted to himself that he probably shouldn't have been so defensive, but for some reason he had this super-protective sense with all things concerning Neal, and he was feeling really guilty about the whole situation anyway. After all, it was his fault that Neal was in this predicament anyway, he should have done something more to protect him. Peter had come up with several scenarios, but still wasn't sure what the best course of action was. He was willing to concede that Elle had been right in one and only one instance; there really were only two conditions on which his agreement with Neal had been based: 1) Help the White Collar division catch other criminals or 2) go back to jail. Peter regretted that there were no other options; there was just no contingency plan for something like this. He just had to think of some way that Neal could be of use without having to go undercover, before Hughes decided Neal wasn't worth the trouble. An agent could just take some leave; use long term disability, but in Neal's case things were different; he wasn't an agent, and their agreement was contingent on Neal's ability to solve cases.

Ever since he had gotten back from suspension, Peter had been under even closer scrutiny by Hughes and the higher ups regarding his deal with Neal. In their eyes, Mentor had never existed, and Neal had tried to escape. To them this proved he was capable of getting out of the tracking anklet and was willing to run, even with the threat of going back to prison over his head. Now that it looked like Neal could be out of commission for an extended period of time, Peter was trying to figure out how to convince Hughes that they shouldn't just abandon him as a consultant even though the FBI wouldn't be obligated to keep him on if he wasn't consulting on cases. Peter hoped that after the whole Mentor controversy he would still be able to pull in a few favors to help Neal, but he figured that it was going to cost him any goodwill he had left. He couldn't afford to be wrong about this.

##

As Elle was walking home, she realized that as tired as she was, she simply wouldn't be able to sleep without checking on Neal. She was worried about him, and clearly Peter wasn't concerned about where she was anyway. She considered just sleeping at the hospital; at least there was someone there who appreciated her presence even if she wasn't who Neal thought she was.

##

Peter decided he needed to visit Neal to get his mind off his fight with Elle; even Satch laying on his lap and licking his face wasn't helping him shake this guilty feeling about their fight. He was also hoping that by talking to Neal he would somehow be able to figure out what to do without getting himself in further trouble with Elle.

When Peter arrived at the hospital, a nurse was checking Neal's vital signs and changing various bandages. She turned around when Peter entered. Peter recognized her as Holly, another nurse who checked up on Neal when Shari, Neal's regular nurse, was off.

"Hello Agent Burke, good to see you again! Neal here is doing much better."

Holly had a really perky grin that seemed to lighten up the room even though it was dark outside.

"Thanks, Holly. That's great news."

Peter really was trying to be friendly, but one glance at his partner and Peter honestly didn't think Neal looked any better; he didn't notice any less equipment attached to Neal either.

Holly finished her routine by taking Neal's blood pressure and scribbling it on her chart, and then headed for the door.

"Bye!"

Peter nodded at her. He was aware Neal's eyes were following his every move, but he still hadn't spoken.

"I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here."

Peter looked for a reaction, but still there was just a silent stare.

"My name is Peter Burke and I'm with the FBI."

Peter pulled out his badge to show Neal. Neal's eyes studied the badge, but still said nothing, and Peter didn't see any trace of recognition.

##

Neal saw the tall man come in while Holly was taking his vital signs and changing his bandages, which she seemed to do way too often for Neal's liking. He realized he wasn't fond of waking up in the middle of the night either just so someone could make sure he was okay. Neal had to admit though that he would rather have Shari or Holly in the room than to be alone with the tall man, but he was afraid to voice his feelings on the matter.

"I'm sure you're wondering what I'm doing here."

The tall man looked down at him as if waiting for an answer. Neal thought that was a pretty dumb statement seeing as he was obviously lying in a hospital bed and the only time a cop would come to see you is when they wanted to ask you questions about what had happened.

"My name is Peter Burke and I'm with the FBI."

The tall man finally had a name. He pulled out an official looking badge and held it up where Neal could see it. Neal scanned it and it looked official enough for him. He was feeling very uneasy wondering why the Feds, instead of the cops, were so interested in him. Neal looked back up at Agent Burke's face and found the agent staring back at him. This guy was really creepy Neal thought. He wished the agent would just go away and leave him alone, it wasn't like he had any information he could give the Fed anyway.

Peter had finally decided that no matter what Elle said he wanted to stick to the truth as much as possible, just in case Neal's memory came back. He was, however, not quite so sure he wanted to reveal Neal's actual reason for working with the FBI just yet.

"Your name is Neal Caffrey. You work with me at the FBI. You're my partner and consultant. We solve cases together."

While Peter didn't get the response he was hoping for, he was pleased to notice that Neal's eyes got bigger and his mouth opened to form an "o" clearly indicating Neal's surprise at the statement.

"Do you remember any of our old cases?"

Peter was trying to start a conversation to see what kind of reaction Neal would have to the information and if he could possibly jog Neal's memory.

"Do you remember a painting that had been stolen from a residence that we investigated? It was a Haustenberg."

Still no response from Neal, but his eyes stayed focused on Peter.

"It was entitled 'Young Girl with Locket.' We were able to recover the painting and it was returned to the Channing Museum who laid claim to it saying it had been stolen from them years before."

Peter didn't mention that Neal had actually stolen the painting in question, but was trying to probe to see if Neal would remember any other details, including the painting's beautiful owner.

Neal still just stared at him with a blank look.

It had crossed Peter's mind that this could possibly be Neal's greatest con _ever_ if he could actually convince everyone that he didn't remember anything. Peter wasn't sure what exactly that would gain him, but Peter just couldn't let it go; he had to see if there was any kind of reaction that flickered across Neal's face, anything that wasn't completely innocent. Neal couldn't possibly know that the tracker had been taken off because it interfered with the hospital equipment. Peter knew that Neal, in his current condition, wouldn't be going anywhere for a long time; he just wasn't so sure if Neal was completely aware of that.

It occurred to Peter right then that he could really use the services of Dr. Cal Lightman to read Neal's expressions, but then he would have to admit out loud (again) that he didn't totally trust his partner and he was already in enough trouble with Elle over his comments.

Peter looked down at Neal, painfully aware of the IV drip, the oxygen flowing through a tube to his nose to ease the stress on his lungs and chest, and the heart monitor that was monotonously droning on. He couldn't be mad at Neal, his heart was just breaking looking at the condition he was in, but he didn't understand why Neal wouldn't talk to him. There weren't any tubes in his throat, and Holly had specifically told him Neal was getting better.

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by a door creaking; he thought it was much too soon for another checkup for Neal and was stunned when he saw who it was.


	7. Chapter 7

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is continuing to follow the story, and thanks for the alerts & reviews. They really brighten up my day! Let me know what you think of this chapter!

**Chapter 7**

Elle pushed open the door to Neal's room. She stopped dead not far from the entrance when she saw Peter standing next to Neal's bed. She saw the shock registering on Peter's face and realized she should leave before either of them said something they would regret in front of Neal. She turned around to leave when she heard a soft voice.

"Mom?"

Elle turned back around and, ignoring Peter, walked right past him to take Neal's hand in hers.

"Oh, honey, how are you feeling? I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. Please forgive me."

Elle realized too late that she could have said those very same words to Peter but hadn't. He was probably going to be jealous that she was paying more attention to Neal than to him. Peter was simply going to have to wait though; Neal needed her.

"I'm better now that you're here."

Neal responded sleepily. Elle pushed some of his dark locks back off of his face and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek; the way any mother would. She could see he had visibly relaxed in just the short time she had been there, and she kept massaging his palm, careful to avoid the IV needle on the top of his hand.

"You're ok. You're gonna be ok. I'm here. There's nothing to worry about."

She repeated this softly until she noticed Neal had fallen asleep with a peaceful look on his face.

Elle laid Neal's hand back down on the bed and looked around for Peter; she didn't see him anywhere. She had been focusing so intently on Neal that she never heard Peter leave. She sighed; it was probably for the best. Elle realized she wasn't sure what to say to him anyway, and it appeared he really didn't want to say anything to her either. Elle briefly wondered if she should try to find Peter and explain or even beg his forgiveness, but she had no idea where he had run off to. She thought back and wondered how they had let it get this far. Elle didn't ever remember them being this mad at each other; sure they had fought occasionally, but Elle was realizing this might be the biggest one of them all, and it was all because both of them cared so deeply about Neal in their own special way.

##

Peter was angrily sipping coffee down in the hospital cafeteria. He hadn't really wanted to leave Neal, he hadn't gotten the information he wanted, but he hadn't expected his wife to show up either. What was up with her?

"_Oh, honey, how are you feeling? I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. Please forgive me."_

How dare she! Those were words she should have been apologizing to _him_ with, not Neal. Peter was pretty sure if Neal hadn't called for her she never would have stayed; he would have been just fine with that. But Neal _had_ seen her walk into the room and stop. He just _had_ to call out "Mom" in his weak little voice, and Elle had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. She hadn't even paid the slightest attention to him, her husband, as she brushed past him and went straight for Neal, babying him and whispering comforting things in his ear. She wasn't even his mother! Elle had taken this whole new "Mom" identity thing way too far. He could only see disastrous consequences ahead; for both Neal and Elle.

He had really wanted to punch something and realized he had to get out of Neal's room before he did something else he would regret later. He had gone down to the cafeteria because he was so mad he didn't trust himself to drive safely home. Fortunately, the cafeteria was deserted at this hour so he only had to hide his angry scowl from the cashier who took his money.

##

Elle couldn't find a comfortable position in the chair. She kept thinking whoever had designed a chair like this had never meant for it to have a dual purpose as a bed. She looked over at Neal who was still sleeping peacefully; wondering how he could sleep with all the noises going on around him. She wished she could shut out all the beeping and the noises associated with the equipment used to make sure Neal was still alive and breathing, but she wasn't having any luck.

Elle wasn't sure how long it had been since she had arrived, and wasn't really sure when Peter had left; time seemed to have no meaning. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse, and absently looked at the time. 3:16 am. Since Peter had not returned, Elle assumed he had gone home and went to bed; she couldn't blame him. She was sure he was as tired as she was, and she needed him to be alert so he wouldn't do something stupid and get himself hurt. She would not be able to handle it if both of them ended up in the hospital. She knew he was already stressed out about Neal, and she was sure their argument hadn't helped matters. She fully expected him to throw himself into the case so he would have an excuse not to come home or to the hospital so he could avoid another argument with her about Neal.

Elle suddenly wanted to call him; she just wanted to hear his voice… _his_ voice… not the angry person she had been verbally sparring with. She wanted to tell him it didn't matter who was right; all that mattered now was Neal was alive. She knew they would figure out together what to do when Neal started asking questions; then they could see how much he remembered and would decide what to tell him.

Yawning, Elle realized she probably shouldn't wake him up; she wanted him to get his sleep, and knew he needed it. She slowly scrolled down to Peter's cell phone number and chose the option to send a text message; at least he would see it when he woke up, and would hopefully be in a more forgiving mood. She tapped out the letters: I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U. P-L-E-A-S-E-F-O-R-G-I-V-E-M-E. 5-4-9 and then she clicked send.

##

Peter woke from a fitful sleep as his cell phone vibrated and moved around the table. He answered sleepily, then realized he was still sitting in the cafeteria; he must have dozed off.

"We have him in custody, Boss! We're bringing him in right now for questioning. Did you want to meet us at the office?"

Peter woke up enough to realize it was Diana on the phone. The photos they garnered had led them to a woman realtor named Madison Hunter. In return for immunity, she flipped on Kris Montoya giving them his hideout location after Peter had played good cop to Diana's impressive bad cop routine. The stakeout she and Jones had just been on was a success, and they had a suspect in custody believed to be the mysterious Kris Montoya from the mortgage fraud case they had been working on. Now that Montoya was in custody, hopefully, they could get this case cleared up without needing further assistance from Neal.

Peter left the hospital. He had almost reached his car in the parking garage when his phone chimed. He realized it was a text message, instead of a phone call, and clicked to open it. He saw it was from Elle, and read her message.

_I LOVE YOU. PLEASE FORGIVE ME. 549._

Peter once again felt tears streaming down his face as he re-read his wife's message. He felt horrible about their fight, but he hadn't cried about it until he read her message and knew he had already forgiven her; he loved her so much. He realized seconds later that 549 was Neal's room number, and he hurriedly turned around and walked back into the hospital. Work was simply going to have to wait; he had to save his marriage first.


	8. Chapter 8

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

A/N: so I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long for Peter & Elle's reunion, I know some of you were anxious for them to get back together! I hope you are happy with it. Please let me know. Reviews make me happy!

**Chapter 8**

Elle looked up when Peter entered the room as quietly as possible. She hadn't sent the text message that long ago, so she knew he had never made it home. She was wondering where he had been, but decided it didn't matter. She got up and threw herself into his arms; tears already streaming down her face even before she noticed his face was wet as well.

"Peter, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I love you. I really do."

"I'm sorry too honey. I love you."

Peter murmured as he caressed her face with his hands; leaning down to kiss her thoroughly. Elle leaned closer savoring every moment of the kiss with this man she absolutely adored and hoped she hadn't lost.

Peter opened his eyes and Elle could see the profound regret there mirrored in her own eyes. She laid her head on his chest, comforted by the steady sound of his beating heart. Peter moved his hands to her back and they stood there enjoying each other's embrace; both feeling fortunate and forgiven. It was several minutes before Elle leaned back; Peter reluctantly letting her go. She reached for Peter's hand and led him back to where Neal lay, still sound asleep.

"You were right."

Elle softly whispered in Peter's ear.

"He's the one who needs to make the choices about his future and he needs to figure it out on his own. I don't think we need to tell him about his past though until he's ready. We should just accept him for who he is now and take one day at a time. While we're waiting we can build new memories with him."

Peter squeezed her hand and bent down to give her another quick kiss on her cheek. Her admission didn't really give him a sense of victory; just an overwhelming feeling of love for Elle because he knew she wanted want was best for Neal and, even if they disagreed, they would be able to work it out together.

Peter found another chair on the other side of the room, quietly moved it and sat down near Elle.

"I told him who I was and that I worked with the FBI. He didn't seem to have any recognition of me or my name; I even showed him my badge. It was interesting because then I told him _his_ name, that he was my partner and we worked together at the FBI; it seemed to really surprise him. You should have seen his eyes, Elle, they were so big and his mouth opened to convey surprise or shock. I'm not quite sure which, but he still didn't say anything, though his expression was definitely worried. I really think Dr. Worthington is right about Neal's reaction to me…for some reason, I really seem to scare Neal and I have no idea why."

Elle gave Peter a reassuring look, and put her hand on top of his.

"I'm sure it's not you, honey. You know how much he respected and trusted you, but think about this…if you woke up and had absolutely no idea who you were or who anybody else was, I think a lot of things would be scary. Also, since he is lying flat on his back in a hospital bed, and not standing next to you, I'm sure you probably look pretty tall and intimidating from his vantage point."

There was a soft knock on the door and this time it was Shari who stepped in for her next check of Neal's vital signs and various bandages. She smiled at Peter and Elle still sitting side by side next to Neal's bed.

"You two are so supportive of Neal; I wish more patients had friends like you. You'd be surprised; some patients never have anyone visit them. It's so sad."

"Well, Neal is more than a friend, Shari - he's family."

Elle wanted to say more, but decided it was enough for now; Shari didn't need to know the whole story.

"He's very fortunate to have you and he's really going to need your support. Recovery from an injury like this can be frustrating. As Dr. Worthington told you, it could have been a lot worse."

Shari moved closer to Neal and replaced some of the bandages before she checked his blood pressure. It wasn't until she checked the dilation of his eyes that Neal moaned and started trying to move. Shari had noticed his eyes seemed to be moving rapidly under his lids; it looked like he was most likely having a bad dream.

"Peter, I need you to come over here and hold Neal's legs down while I check a few other things, we don't need him unintentionally putting any more pressure on his back and spine. Elle, I need you to hold his hand and see if you can get him to relax; he seems to respond very well to your voice."

Both Peter and Elle were out of their chairs and moving into position quickly to prevent Neal from hurting himself further.

"He's more than likely just having a bad dream, but his heartbeat is elevated, and his pupils are moving back and forth rapidly. We have to make sure he doesn't hurt himself until it passes."

##

Neal was dreaming he was in a dark alley, nervously waiting to make the exchange. He saw a figure dressed in black leather and a black ski mask appear around a corner at the other end of the alley and then a long, sleek, black limousine pulled in right behind the masked man.

"Have you got the painting?"

The masked man walked slowly and deliberately closing the gap between himself and Neal.

"Where's my money?"

Neal continued to grip the wrapped painting. The masked man signaled to someone in the limo. The back door opened and a man got out holding a shiny metallic briefcase. This second man, also wearing a black ski mask, took several steps forward, clearing the front of the limo. He clicked the briefcase open and set it on the ground a few feet from Neal so he could see the money was in there.

Neal reluctantly handed over the painting to the first man and took a step to the side to grab the silver briefcase. Neal closed the case, grabbed the handle, and straightened up. He was about to say 'Pleasure doing business with you' when he felt an unwelcome pressure in his chest.

He looked up and saw the second man holding a gun with a silencer still leveled at his chest. Neal looked down and saw his shirt turning a bright red. Struggling to breathe and unable to call for help, Neal realized as he sank to the ground in that cold dark alley that he hadn't even told Mozzie where the meet was. Mozzie had told him not to go; he said he didn't feel right about it, so it wasn't likely he'd be anxious to go searching for Neal even if he didn't come back. Neal wasn't sure any of his so called friends that he had worked with on various jobs would even care if he was gone. Kate would probably miss him, but now she was free to find someone who could give her a better life; someone who could give her more than a cheap apartment and who wouldn't have to drink cheap wine in an expensive bottle and pretend they weren't on the run. She deserved more than he could give her.

As Neal lay on the cold asphalt unable to move, his last thought was that most of all he regretted the game of cat-and-mouse with the FBI was finally over. Peter Burke _would_ find him…dead.


	9. Chapter 9

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

A/N: You guys are amazing, and I thank everyone who has taken the time to review this! For those of you who really liked the dream, hang on, the next chapter will reveal more!

**Chapter 9**

Neal heard a soft voice talking to him. The voice was encouraging him to open his eyes; telling him he was going to be ok, although Neal wasn't sure quite sure what was wrong to begin with. He realized someone was massaging his hand and running their fingers through his hair; he didn't want it to stop. The voice was starting to become more insistent he open his eyes and Neal became afraid something really was wrong. He tried to open his eyes, but it took him several attempts before they fluttered open. He was momentarily confused by the darkness, but then his eyes adjusted enough to see a small light somewhere above his bed giving off a soft glow.

"Neal, hey, I'm over here."

Neal's thoughts were interrupted by the same voice and Neal turned his head toward the sound. He recognized the dark haired lady from earlier.

"Hey."

Neal responded, although it was barely a whisper. He squeezed her hand wanting to say more, but he couldn't think clearly enough.

"We think you had a bad dream, but Peter and I are here with you. You're safe. Ok?"

Elle motioned to Peter and he appeared at her side, so Neal could see he was still here.

"I don't remember your name."

Neal whispered, squeezing her hand again.

"I like your voice though… I could hear your voice."

"My name is Elle and your name is Neal."

Elle moved a stray curl away from his face so he could see her better.

"Do you remember Peter from earlier?"

"Yeah, he has a badge."

Neal mumbled, so Elle leaned closer to hear him.

"He says we work for the FBI. I don't…I don't remember."

"It's ok. There was an accident. You were hurt, but the doctor says you're getting better."

Elle gave him a reassuring look and continued to massage his hand.

"What happened?"

Neal wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he couldn't help asking since he had absolutely no idea what was going on. Peter stood up and leaned a bit closer to Neal's bed so he could look Neal in the eye while he talked.

"We were working on a case, and you were hit from behind by some falling plastic tubing. We've caught the guy we think is behind the scam we were investigating, but we're still not sure if he had anything to do with your accident."

Neal saw a look in Peter's eyes that troubled him. Neal felt there was something more there, something Peter wasn't telling him. He realized he felt some sort of connection with Peter, but he just couldn't figure out what it was. Peter had said they were partners, but was that all? No, he felt something more; something innately protective about the way Peter had looked at him, almost like Neal was his son, and somehow Peter had failed him.

"Neal?"

Elle's voice shook him out of his thoughts.

"Are you remembering something?"

Neal didn't want to tell her yet about his thoughts on Peter because they seemed jumbled and unclear to him. He needed a chance to sort things out in his mind so he turned his head to stare at the wall and away from both sets of eyes.

"I just was thinking about what Peter said."

Neal paused for several moments, and both Peter and Elle could envision the wheels whirring in his head. Finally Neal looked up and locked eyes with Peter.

"Was someone trying to kill me? I don't remember what we were doing there. Why would someone want to kill me? What have I done?"

Peter had seen Neal's expression change the moment it occurred to him that someone might have been trying to kill him. Peter also noticed the heart monitor had increased in the regularity of its beeps. He knew he needed to calm Neal down before he had a panic attack and Peter would be forced to alert one of Neal's nurses to help; neither of them would be happy with Peter. He just wanted to tell Neal everything was going to be ok, but he wasn't sure he believed it himself.

"Neal, we aren't sure what happened, but no, I don't think anyone was specifically targeting you, I think this was just a horrible accident. I don't think you're in any danger."

Peter wasn't sure what else to do; how else to explain it, so he just let Elle continue to hold and massage Neal's hand, hoping it would be enough for now.

##

Peter's phone began to vibrate, and he grabbed it off his holster immediately, looking at the caller ID.

"Diana, I am so sorry, something came up at the hospital. I'm leaving right now."

Peter clipped his phone back in its holster, and leaned down to kiss Elle.

"I have to go. I was supposed to meet Diana and Jones. They have a suspect in custody."

Peter looked down at his watch. 4:30 am.

"Oh, great. Can it possibly be this late? No wonder Diana was upset."

He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Elle looked up at him with an understanding expression.

"Go!"

Peter looked down at Neal, an apologetic expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, Neal. I have got to go; this guy is our best chance to figure out what happened. I'll stop by later to check on you. I swear."

"It's ok, I believe you. You need to do your job. I'll still be here."

Neal watched him go, wondering why Peter had seemed upset he had to leave. He was an FBI agent and it was his job to track down criminals. Neal got the feeling that for some reason Peter felt guilty for letting his job take importance over talking to him. Neal noticed when he asked Peter if someone was trying to kill him, Peter had switched from the authoritative voice he had used previously to a much more sympathetic tone; it was more of a protective fatherly sort of feeling, and it made Neal feel much more comfortable around Peter than he had previously. Neal was finally coming to the realization Peter wasn't here just for information as he had thought at first; he was here because they were partners and quite possibly good friends.

##

Neal hadn't said anything after Peter had left, but he had seemed to relax and she thought he had fallen asleep. Elle loosened her grip on his hand; trying to let go without disturbing him. She was startled when his grip tightened; not wanting to let go. He turned his head to look at her; wondering what she had been trying to do. She figured now was as good a time as any to tell him what she had been thinking about.

"Neal, there's something I need to tell you."

Elle was afraid this might upset Neal, but she knew she needed to clear things up before they went any farther.

"Neal, I'm not your mom. You called me that a couple times when you first woke up. I..I've always wanted to be a mom, but it just never happened, so…so I was pretending I could be your mom because I knew you needed someone. I didn't want you to be alone."

She looked over at Neal, but he wouldn't look at her.

"I know."

It was said with a lingering trace of defeat in his voice.

"You know?"

"I was just hoping she had come back for me, that she…she still loved me, but I…I couldn't remember what she looked like at first, and I was hoping she had found me. I thought she loved me; she said she did. She made me feel safe when I was with her, like…like you do. Then I remembered she had beautiful, long blond hair. I remember it always tickled my face when she kissed me on my cheek before she tucked me into bed."

Neal stopped as if caught in this one memory, but then he looked up at Elle with a tortured expression.

"But…but one day she just left and…and she never came back. I think she stopped…she stopped loving me. Please…Please don't leave me like she did."

Neal felt tears running down his face, and then realized Elle was wiping them away as he was in no condition to do so himself.

Elle wasn't sure if she should be relieved or upset knowing Neal had remembered this. She also felt angry because some women who had children had no business being mothers and other women who would be _wonderful_ mothers didn't have any children. There was so much injustice in this world and Neal represented only a tiny fraction of it.

"Neal, just because I'm not your mom doesn't mean I won't love you like one. I don't know what happened with your mom. I'm sorry she left, but I'm here now; and Peter…Peter looks after you like a son. You're not alone. You're part of our family."

"I know… I can feel it…I feel safe. Thank you."

Neal responded slowly feeling the sense of belonging he had always yearned for. Elle stood up releasing Neal's hand, and Neal reluctantly let go. She stretched her arms and legs from sitting so long.

"Now… I'm going to the nurses' desk to find an extra blanket. I need to get at least a few hours sleep, even if it's on the floor. I'll be right back, ok?"

Elle looked at Neal to make sure he understood she wasn't leaving for good. Neal nodded his consent and was asleep before she had left the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your continued reviews! You have no idea how they brighten my day. I am so excited about this chapter, and I hope you don't mind that it's much longer than any previous chapters ;) I was going to end it here, but I was inspired to write an epilogue which I'll post tomorrow. Please let me know what you think.**

**Chapter 10**

_Several days later…_

Neal woke up with a start. He had been dreaming again; it had become a nightly occurrence. Every time it was the same dream of him being in an alley with a painting and a masked man shooting him. He didn't understand it. Why would he have a painting? Was he an artist? Why would there be masked men involved? Who was giving him the money? Was this some kind of undercover operation that had gone wrong? Why did somebody want to kill him? The questions were endless and all unanswered; nothing made any sense. Who was Mozzie? Who was Kate? They were names that meant nothing to him. He tried to tell himself it was just a dream; just something made up by his subconscious. He really tried to believe that, but the last part of the dream just kept nagging at him.

_He lay on the cold asphalt unable to move, his last thought was that most of all he regretted the game of cat-and-mouse with the FBI was finally over. Peter Burke would find him…dead._

It was not a coincidence; Neal was sure. Why would the dream keep repeating unless it had a hidden meaning? What kind of cat-and-mouse game was going on? Why was he playing the game? Shouldn't they be playing it with a criminal they were trying to catch? Were they playing it with the masked men? Why would he be regretting it then? After all, he worked for the FBI, but if he was supposed to track down the criminals, why would _he_ be playing cat-and-mouse with _them_? He assumed the reference to Peter was because they were partners, but why wasn't Peter there? Wasn't he supposed to have his back? If he had really died, as it seemed in his dream, then why was he alive and here? Neal didn't remember seeing Peter anywhere, but he must have been there. Peter must have seen it happen and he must have found him in time…that's what partners do.

Neal felt relief flow through him for a few moments until he remembered another conversation with Peter.

"_What happened?" _

"_We were working on a case, and you were hit from behind by some falling plastic tubing. We've caught the guy we think is behind the scam we were investigating, but we're still not sure if he had anything to do with your accident."_

Neal was even more confused now. He thought Peter had saved his life after the masked man from his dream shot him, but now he was remembering Peter telling him that they were investigating a scam and he had been hit by falling tubing. Was he imagining things? Were his dreams now intertwining with real cases? How was he ever going to figure out what was real and what was just a dream?

##

_A week later…_

Neal woke to find Holly wrapping his arm with a cuff to check his blood pressure. He had no idea if it was morning or afternoon. His days and nights had been so mixed up lately that he had no idea what day of the week it was, or what time of day it might be. He felt like the whole world was revolving without him and he was stuck here in this bed with no escape. He felt completely useless and all alone, save for the occasional visit by Holly or Shari, who tried to cheer him up while checking his vital signs. He felt strange waking up and not having someone hold his hand. Elle had always been there encouraging him to open his eyes, but she and Peter had both gone back to work and would drop by on occasion, making sure he knew they hadn't forgotten about him. He realized that they had lives outside these hospital walls that he was stuck in for the foreseeable future. He couldn't blame them; he wouldn't want to be here either.

Elle had put some more pieces together for him; he had known that there was something more to Peter's gaze when they had been talking earlier. Elle had told him that Peter cared for him like a son, as well as being partners in the FBI. It seemed strange to Neal that Peter had scared him at first, but now he was a lot more comfortable with him. First appearances always tended to be deceiving when you didn't have all the information. He briefly wondered what Peter's first impression of him had been.

##

Neal was dreaming the same dream, yet again. He was standing in the alley and the masked man was approaching asking for the painting. Neal asked for the money and the masked man once again signaled to someone in the limo. The second man got out of the limo with the briefcase and set it down by Neal. Neal saw himself handing over the painting, and bending down to pick up the briefcase. He knew what was going to happen next. He tried to scream to warn himself, but no sound came out. He tried to run, but his feet were frozen in place; the Neal in his dream wasn't paying any attention to him. But this time…this time it was different…this time the shot caught him in the leg. Neal realized it wasn't a fatal injury, but still saw himself falling to the ground. This time, Neal looked up and saw the second man, the man who had shot him, looking down at him. The man pulled off his mask. Neal gasped as he recognized Peter's face and Peter was laughing.

"_Three years Caffrey… three years of this cat-and-mouse game and I win. You can't run anymore. I'm sure Kate will visit you in prison."_

He felt Peter rolling him over; pulling his arms behind him and heard the click of metal handcuffs around his wrists just before he passed out.

##

Neal woke up drenched in sweat, his heart beating rapidly.

"And how are we doing this morning?"

Neal looked over and saw Shari walking into the room sounding chipper as usual until she noticed the heart monitor beeping at a frantic pace. She hurried to his side and noticed that his hospital gown was soaked.

"Neal, what happened? What's wrong?"

Neal was still working on controlling his breathing. He realized his dream had changed into a nightmare. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real; Shari was here and he was safe in his hospital bed. She was feeling his forehead, a concerned look still on her face; Neal did feel warm.

"I think…I just…I had another bad dream. I'm ok."

"Are you sure? You're really flushed, you're heart is racing and your hospital gown is soaked. That does _not_ sound ok to me. Let me get something to help you calm down and I'll get you a new gown. I'll be back in a bit."

Neal didn't want to calm down. He was desperately trying to figure out what had just happened. It was the same dream, but this time the ending had really scared him. This time Peter was the one with the briefcase; Peter was the one holding the gun that fired and Peter was looking down at him lying on the ground. Peter was laughing.

"_Three years Caffrey… three years of this cat-and-mouse game, and I win. You can't run anymore. I'm sure Kate will visit you in prison."_

Neal wasn't sure what to believe anymore. The Peter that had come to visit him in the hospital seemed to genuinely care about him, he was his partner. The Peter from his dream had shot him, removed his mask - so that Neal had no doubts about his identity - and then laughed in Neal's face. 

_I win._

Neal closed his eyes. He could still see the Peter from his dreams laughing down at him; gloating as if he had won the grand prize. Why couldn't he make it go away? It couldn't be real, it was all a dream; a nightmare. Peter was his partner, his protector, his friend. Peter had assured him several times that nobody was after him; nobody wanted to kill him, but now it looked like Peter himself was the one trying to kill him.

_I win. I win._

Neal couldn't make the image of Peter laughing at him go away. No, it's not real, it can't be real. Suddenly, another piece of the puzzle fell into place in Neal's mind and he froze in horror.

_He was regretting the game of cat-and-mouse with the FBI was finally over. Peter Burke would find him…_

He saw Peter laughing.

_Three years Caffrey… three years of this cat-and-mouse game…_

The same cat-and-mouse game he had been regretting was over. Why was it over?

_I win._

Neal could hear the clicking of the handcuffs from his dream as vividly as if they were right behind him; he could feel the cold metal touching his skin and suddenly he knew.

The door opened and Shari stepped in with a clean hospital gown and a syringe. She noticed that Neal had gotten deathly pale since she left. She knew something was terribly wrong and hurried to administer the sedative.

##

"Good morning Sunshine! You look better today!"

Neal didn't respond. Shari still couldn't figure out what was wrong; he had only spoken a handful of words since his nightmare several days ago.

"Today is Wednesday; it's almost noon, and it's a beautiful day outside!"

Shari noticed her perky demeanor was completely lost on Neal; he really looked like death warmed over, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

"Elle stopped in earlier this morning, but you were still sleeping. She didn't want to wake you. She hated leaving you again, but she wanted to go run her errands while you were still asleep."

Neal closed his eyes while he felt Shari do her usual pokes and prods. He was glad he had been sleeping; he didn't want to talk to Elle or Peter right now. He didn't want to remember.

"Only one more week, and then hopefully we can take your chest cast off, get a more comfortable back brace on and we can start you on some physical therapy. Soon enough we'll have you sitting up doing all sorts of things and then you can go home."

Neal didn't respond because he wasn't sure what to say; he didn't really care. He felt betrayed by the people he was supposed to be closest to. He remembered the names Mozzie and Kate from his dreams, but he was still fuzzy about who they were or if they could even help. He didn't even remember if he had a home to go back to, or where he would go once they finally released him. Who could he trust to tell him?

Peter and Elle had lied to him; they had made him believe that he was an honorable person who worked as Peter's partner at the FBI to help catch criminals. Now he remembered the truth. He knew why he was holding the painting in his dream; he remembered many paintings that he had sold that way...all forgeries. He was nothing but a conman, a forger and an art thief. What did Peter have to gain? He had won; he had sent him to prison - case closed. What Neal couldn't piece together yet was _why_ he was working for the FBI and why he would work for Peter. Peter had been the enemy, but now…now Neal was confused. Peter didn't feel like an enemy anymore, somehow he had become a friend. He was certain that both Peter and Elle knew the truth about him and hadn't told him. He was certain that they knew he was a criminal, a black sheep, and yet they treated him like a son, maybe even a prodigal son…a son that had come home after disgracing his parents. He was sure they knew and yet they accepted him with open arms. Elle had assured him he was loved and he wanted to believe that. He wanted to be loved; he needed to be loved.

Peter's face appeared before him once again, still laughing…

"_I'm sure Kate will visit you in prison."_

Kate…Kate…a woman's face crystallized in Neal's mind; a beautiful woman…a woman with long brown hair… telling him goodbye. He had loved her…his mind was slowly processing this new information. He remembered being furious, how could she leave him? He had to find her…he had to explain...she had to have known he was anticipating the day when he could walk back into her arms. How could she do this to him? He remembered now. He had spent weeks planning, weeks coming up with the perfect con…the perfect escape. Only, he had failed…he had missed her by two days…and all she had left him was an empty bottle of wine.

_You can't trust anyone._

Neal could hear Kate's voice, he opened his eyes and she was standing over him, warning him.

_You can't trust anyone._

She looked over her shoulder, a scared expression on her face, and then she disappeared as quickly as she had come.

"No!"

Neal screamed into the darkness, but no one cared.

##

Shari had been her usually perky self today and informed him the sun was shining brightly outside and it was a beautiful day; as if he could just run outside and see for himself. He couldn't prove she was lying just with her words, so he decided to humor her and see. She happily pulled up the window shade for him, but the window was off to the side and behind him, so he couldn't directly see the sunlight. It didn't matter…the dreary hospital room still came alive with brilliant light displaying different moving patterns on the wall that Neal assumed were created by branches and leaves just outside his window, moving in the breeze. It wasn't much, but at least it was something to keep his mind off his problems, at least until it got dark.

##

Neal was afraid Peter might have forgotten about him. It was quite possible he had gotten caught up in a case and just didn't have time. Neal hadn't seen him for several days…although he really wasn't quite sure how many, so he was relieved to see him walk in the door.

"It's a little dark in here isn't it? It's too early for you to be asleep."

Peter flipped on the light and Neal closed his eyes to let them adjust to the sudden light. He heard Peter sit down in the chair next to his bed, and when he opened his eyes Peter was studying him. Neal assumed it was because Peter hadn't seen him for a few days and was trying to determine if Neal looked any better; Neal wasn't sure he did.

"Shari opened the shade for me and turned the light off so I could see the sunlight."

"That was nice of her."

"Why do I work for the FBI?"

Neal had asked it as a simple question to start a conversation, a conversation he really didn't want to have, but there were still so many unanswered questions. He needed to figure out why Kate was warning him. Had she meant he couldn't trust Peter? He needed answers, and he figured Peter was the best place to start.

Peter froze momentarily at the one question he had hoped Neal _wouldn't_ ask, but Peter supposed it was inevitable. He wasn't sure what to tell Neal, or how much to remind him of. Neal hadn't mentioned that he had remembered anything other than his mother yet so Peter tried to cover the high points of their cases together without revealing certain criminal aspects.

"You enjoy solving puzzles. You enjoy helping people. When you look at the faces of the people we've helped it makes it all worth it; there's a certain satisfaction you can't get anywhere else. You like to get inside people's heads. You figure out what makes them tick, why they've committed the crime and then we come up with a game plan to take them down. I have to admit, you are one of the best at your job!"

Peter noticed that Neal had a budding smile on his face and a sense of pride growing in his eyes; well at least Peter hoped it was pride.

Peter could have added that Neal was also the best liar, cheat, conman, extortionist, thief and escape artist he had ever seen, but for right now he just wanted to focus on the positive aspects of Neal's FBI position. It wasn't as if Peter was lying…Neal _was_ one of the best… not even a high school graduate and he still put Peter's Harvard co-workers to shame. Peter had noticed Neal's expression soften, and realized that Elle's theory was beginning to grow on him; maybe what Neal really needed was just positive love, encouragement, and law-abiding role models.

Peter continued to tell Neal about how he had helped a young girl and her dad save their home after a dirty judge was trying to swindle many families by creating false second mortgages; then evicting them. Peter also explained how Neal had come to Peter for help to save a young girl's life and helped her get on a donor transplant list. In the process, they had managed to shut down a corrupt organization trying to buy and sell organs. On a more recent case, Peter told Neal that they were able to shut down a corrupt operation threatening adoptive parents. Peter left out any details where Neal had bent and even broken the law - in typical Neal Caffrey fashion - because Peter didn't want to have to explain that dark side just yet.

Neal appeared to be impressed at what Peter was telling him.

"So… it sounds like we make a great team."

"Yeah, I would say we are one of the best teams out there and _our_ recovery rate is much higher than the average bureau rate. In our case, I would say the sum is definitely greater than its parts."

Peter was expecting Neal to say something sarcastic like 'Well, I can see modesty becomes you,' but then realized that he wasn't talking to the 'old' Neal.

"It must be an honor to work with you then."

Peter was taken off guard by Neal's apparently sincere remark and realized, almost in awe, that Neal hadn't said one sarcastic thing to him since he had regained consciousness. Peter was actually starting to miss the 'old' Neal.


	11. Chapter 11

One of the Best

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA Network.

A/N: Wow. I finished it! I'm proud of myself for a first attempt. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. Thank you so much for the reviews, and let me know what you think of this ending.

**Epilogue: **

_Three months later…_

Peter pushed the elevator button for the 21st floor.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Peter couldn't see Neal's face, but he was certain he knew the answer.

"Yes, Peter. I'm sure."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened; Peter rolled the wheelchair forward. Jones was standing by the glass doors waiting to open them for Peter as he turned around and rolled Neal's wheelchair backward so the big tires would be easier to get over the door jam. Peter stopped just inside the bullpen, locked both wheels and then grabbed Neal's hands to help him up. Neal assumed Peter was just going to help him to his desk.

"Thanks."

Neal wavered slightly as he stood trying to maintain his balance. He felt Peter's hand supporting him on his back, but at least he was standing! He had been practicing for several days now and Kenzi, his physical therapist, thought he was making great progress. Kenzi had suggested to Peter that it might be a good idea for Neal to get out and enjoy a park or museum; something that could be done in a wheelchair, but also allowed him to stand for short periods of time.

Today, Peter had asked him to come to the office to consult on a case, and Hughes had been very generous in overlooking the conman's absence from the office. Peter felt that Neal was finally ready to come back at least for a few hours when needed. Neal was just excited that Peter was finally letting him get out of the house, and took Peter up on his offer to come with him to the FBI headquarters. Neal told Peter that fresh eyes reviewing case files couldn't hurt.

Neal was about to take a step toward his desk when he heard applause beginning behind him and growing in volume. Peter helped him turn around so he didn't lose his balance. Neal saw a large group of agents standing in the bullpen, and up on the level of Peter's office all clapping for him. He also noticed there was a big "Welcome Back Neal!" sign hanging from the ceiling.

Neal was stunned. He was certain Peter had planned this…yet another thing he didn't tell him and the list kept growing. Neal struggled to maintain the cover he had created over the last several months. He was sure Peter had no idea that he had remembered anything and he was bound and determined to keep it that way until he could decide what to do, but this…this was threatening to bring tears to his eyes.

Neal didn't remember any of the agents except for Peter, Jones and Diana, but he recognized several faces from pictures he had been studying and they were all smiling at him. Peter had given him the pictures and descriptions of quite a few of the agents that they worked with so that Neal would feel more comfortable once he was able to come back to work full time. He saw Peter turn to face him and hoped he looked appropriately surprised instead of angry that Peter had kept yet another thing from him, even if it was a surprise party for him.

"See, they all missed you and they're glad you're back."

Jones came over and shook his hand, holding a paper plate with a fork embedded in a large piece of white cake with confetti sprinkled frosting in his other hand.

"Good to have you back Neal. You look so much better! Elle made cakes for us to celebrate your return! They're in the conference room. You should come back more often."

Diana did not look amused at Jones' comment and smacked him on the shoulder almost making him drop his cake.

"He didn't mean it. It's just really good to have you back, Neal. We've all missed you, but don't go getting yourself hurt like that again. Ok?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Neal was actually enjoying the camaraderie that was evident among his co-workers and he _was_ trying to relax somewhat. The other agents formed a line to shake Neal's hand and welcome him back. Neal was trying to put names with faces as they shook his hand. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel, he was so overwhelmed with mixed emotions that were threatening to blow his cover that all he could say was 'Thank you' to each one. Some of the agents even shook Peter's hand, since he had been standing next to Neal just in case he needed any extra support. They congratulated him on getting his partner back before they hurried upstairs to the conference room to inhale more of Elle's delicious cake.

Hughes was the last to shake Neal's hand. He had a hat in one hand, and reached out to shake Neal's hand with the other.

"It's good to have you back boy! You've been missed more than you realize."

"Thank you, sir. Good to be back."

Hughes looked Neal up and down.

"Is that a DeVore? That's a nice looking suit, but I think something's missing."

Neal looked at Hughes with a confused expression. The only thing he could think of was his tracking anklet. Peter had put the anklet on the same day he was released from the hospital, so it couldn't be that. Peter had told him he had to wear the anklet so the FBI and the U.S. Marshalls could track him for his protection. There were a lot of criminals they had put away that might want revenge. Since Neal wouldn't remember them, Peter had said he was in danger because they might see him as an easy target while he was recovering. Neal had believed him for a little while.

Hughes had a very patient expression on his face as he realized Neal really was trying to figure out what the problem was.

"I have no idea what's missing, sir. This is what Peter gave me to wear. He said it was what I normally wear to work, but this is all his gave me."

Neal had an angry expression on his face as he looked around for Peter, who had slipped away unnoticed. He was mad at Peter to begin with because he knew Peter was now lying to him on a daily basis about who he was. Now it appeared that Peter had planned a surprise party for him and then set him up to be humiliated by Hughes. Neal felt so confused. Unfortunately, his memory was still spotty; there were many things he still couldn't remember and it appeared the dress code was one of them. Peter had told Neal on the way to the office that it was of the utmost importance to impress Hughes. Now Neal felt Peter had set him up to fail…Peter was going to regret this…he had pushed too far this time and Neal was far from a forgiving mood.

Neal's gaze returned to Hughes and noticed that he had an even bigger grin on his face as Peter walked up behind Hughes.

"Did I miss something?"

"I was just telling Neal that something seems to be missing from his appearance."

"Did you now? I wonder what that might be?"

Neal noticed that Peter had a fairly big grin on his face as well and had a funny feeling that something was going on here and he was totally missing it. Neal felt even more justified in his anger against Peter, but carefully slipped a hurt expression over the anger underneath. He needed to keep up the façade for just a little while longer.

"Why are you doing this to me? I have no idea what he's talking about."

Neal looked over at Peter with pleading eyes. Peter was contemplating tell him, but knew what Hughes was up to and wanted to hear Neal's response. Neal felt he was at a serious disadvantage; the most important thing in a con was to know your mark, and he could only hope that he was reading Peter right; there were still so many things he didn't remember. His anger was squeezing the life out of him, and he was feeling a desperate need for air. He needed to know why Peter was lying to him; why he was trying to humiliate him…he remembered Peter's gun.

Maybe just maybe he could get his hands on it; he could demand the answers he was looking for. He wasn't sure he could do it; it had been so long…hopefully he wasn't too rusty.

He noticed both Peter and Hughes staring at him, he must have gotten pale, but he had to do this, he had to have answers.

"I don't feel so good."

Neal started falling, but Peter caught him before he could hit the floor and helped him back into a standing position.

"Neal, are you ok?"

Peter really looked concerned.

"Can we just go home already? I'm tired, I'm apparently violating the dress code, and I…I don't think I'm ready for this."

Hughes started laughing and handed Neal's trademark fedora over to the confused conman.

"We simply can't have you working here without this."

Neal took the hat as Hughes walked away and twirled it in hands; it felt strangely familiar. He twirled it, flipped it up his arm and it landed perfectly on his head. It just felt right.

"Neal?"

"Yes, Peter?"

Peter smile disappeared. He had been watching Neal and saw him do his hat trick without thinking. He wondered briefly if there was more Neal had remembered, but wasn't telling him.

In the last three months, Neal had been a model patient; he had gotten Shari and Holly, his nurses, and Kenzi, the physical therapist, wrapped around his little finger; they simply adored him. It occurred to Peter just then that the 'old' Caffrey charm had been hard at work with those ladies, but he wasn't sure if Neal realized it or not. Was there something more here? Something he was missing?

"Peter?"

Neal interrupted Peter's reverie; his eyes appearing concerned at first, but when Peter looked a second time he could have sworn he saw those same blue green eyes filled with anger, just briefly, before resuming their concerned appearance.

"It's nothing, Neal. Never mind. I need to grab a file from my office; we can discuss the case particulars at home."

Peter walked up the stairs to his office; he couldn't shake the feeling…something just felt wrong. He knew he had no proof, just his gut feeling, as he ran his fingers through his hair thinking miserably, 'Neal, what have you done to me now?'

Peter was rummaging through the files on his desk, he thought he had put the folder on his keyboard, but it wasn't there. He heard footsteps approaching and just assumed it was Neal...he never knocked. He finally found the folder he needed under another pile of papers on his desk, and looked up expecting to see Neal.

What Peter looked up into was the barrel of a gun. His gun. He looked past the hand it was extended in and up into Neal's eyes. All traces of innocence were gone, and in its place was a look of betrayal mixed with anger. Peter felt his holster, and for the first time noticed that his gun was missing. Neal must have taken it when he had pretended to faint; apparently old habits are hard to break. Unfortunately for Peter, Neal's back was to the door, so no one in the bullpen saw anything unusual; it was completely natural for Neal to be in Peter's office.

"Neal, put the gun down."

"No."

"You don't like guns."

"Yeah, I think you've mentioned that in a story or two you've told me. Unfortunately, I don't remember that. It feels pretty good to me."

Peter was going over his options in his mind. He wasn't sure who he was dealing with: the Neal Caffrey who despised guns, or this new creature who had taken over Neal's mind and body and was currently holding a gun on him, and who was apparently as good a pickpocket as the original. He just needed to stay calm.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"What did I lie to you about?"

"You can't con a conman, Peter. You of all people should know that."

Peter felt slightly guilty; so…Neal did remember he was a conman. Who knows how long he had been conning Peter and Elle into believing he still had amnesia.

"Neal, don't do this. This isn't a game."

A strange expression crossed Neal's face. He had heard that line before.

_Neal, don't do this. This isn't a game. It doesn't feel right this time. It's too dangerous._

Another piece clicked. Mozzie. Mozzie had told him not to take the painting. What if he'd listened? It didn't really matter now.

Neal snapped back to the present. He may have given up the painting, but he was not going to let Peter win again. This time _he_ was the one with the gun; _he_ was the one laughing.

Peter noticed Neal's expression had changed into a sneer, and then the corners of his mouth twitched upward as if he was going to laugh.

"I have to give you credit for a creative explanation for the tracking anklet. It was believable…at least for a little while. You lied to me Peter; you said I could trust you. I wanted to trust you, and you let me down."

"Neal, I swear, it was only to protect you."

"You embarrassed me in front of Hughes! How could you? You and Elle…you made me believe that I was worth something, you made me believe that I made a difference…that I was an FBI agent that did good and honorable things. But I started having dreams…bad dreams…dreams that just didn't make sense. I couldn't get rid of them; they would haunt me, and I couldn't figure them out…until one night. One night, it started to make sense…several pieces were still missing; they still are, but more and more pieces fell into place until I had a fairly decent picture in my head, and it wasn't pretty. Do you want to know what I saw Peter?"

"Neal, stop it. We were only trying to help. We…"

"No! You stop. No apologies. I asked you a question."

"Neal, put the gun on my desk and we can talk about this. I can see you're upset, but holding a gun on me is not going to improve the situation."

"Yes, it will. I want answers, and I want them now. I know you lied to me and I want to know why. I asked you if you wanted to know what I saw in my head that finally convinced me of who and what I was. Do you even care?"

"Neal, I know you don't believe me right now, but I do care about you; both Elle and I care. Ok? You never told us about the dreams. Why don't you sit down, give me the gun and you can tell me all about it. You can even put your feet up on my desk."

"Nice try, Peter."

Neal gave no indication of moving or lowering the weapon.

"It was you. You were laughing at me. In my dream you pulled a gun on me, you shot me, and you were laughing that you had won; after three years you had won. Then I felt you pull my hands behind my back; I felt the cool metal of the handcuffs on my wrists…I heard the click and I remembered."

Neal stopped to take a deep breath, but the gun never wavered. Peter cringed at the look of betrayal that he saw in Neal's eyes, and didn't miss the tears that had escaped.

"I never shot you Neal. I know you don't like guns. I respect that. You're a non-violent person. You don't want to do this."

"It _was_ you. You arrested me, you put me in jail, and now you're acting like it never happened. You couldn't even tell me the real reason why I needed to wear the tracking anklet! Are you that ashamed of my past? You said I could trust you! You said you were my partner, but you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth."

"Neal, I wanted to, but I just never felt the time was right. When you first woke up, we were just so happy that you were alive that we didn't want to burden you right away. We wanted you to focus all your energy on healing."

Peter edged back in his chair; looking up to see what Neal's reaction would be. The gun didn't move. He slowly stood up.

"Peter."

"Neal."

Peter took a step forward.

"We wanted you to remember on your own time. You never shared with us that you had remembered anything other than your mother. Yes, Elle told me. We didn't want to burden you while you were recovering. You had a traumatic injury and we were concentrating on helping you get better."

Peter had taken several steps very slowly, keeping his eyes on Neal's and not the gun.

"So, truth is a burden you thought I couldn't handle because I lie for a living anyway?"

"Neal, it's not like that. Elle and I even got into a horrible fight about what to do. We didn't know how to help you. If you had told us what you were remembering, maybe we could have helped fill in the pieces, but _you_ didn't trust _us_ with that information either. We didn't know. I'm sorry. When you asked me why you worked for the FBI, I didn't know what to say, but I didn't lie…I just didn't tell you everything. I was wrong, but what I said was true, all of it. You are the best at your job, you really like helping people, and it makes you feel good. We make a great team."

While talking, Peter had taken several more steps until he was directly in front of Neal; the gun pointed directly at his chest, just inches away. He kept his gaze locked on Neal's eyes, daring Neal to look away. Neal looked frozen, unable to move as if he couldn't decide what to think or do.

"Neal, trust is a two way street. You need to trust that I will do what I think is best for you at the time, and I will trust you not to do something stupid like pulling the trigger. We _both_ win."

Neal hesitated, but then slowly lowered the gun and placed it in Peter's outstretched hand. Peter could see that the fight had gone out of him; he looked exhausted.

"No one needs to know about this. Ok? I won't tell anyone, and I promise I won't send you back to jail. It will be our little secret. You _can_ trust me."

"I know."

Neal's look was still way too serious, so Peter tried to diffuse the situation with humor to see if he could get Neal to smile.

"What went wrong? I thought we were having a great time! The agents here all congratulated you for coming back; Elle baked several cakes just for this. You even charmed Hughes with your 'I have no idea what's missing, sir' line. I gave him your hat; I wanted to see what happened, but I didn't want you to know I was in on it. You had me fooled. I really didn't think you knew, but when I saw you flip your hat…."

Neal looked tremendously uncomfortable; not the charming grin Peter was hoping for.

"I didn't know. I didn't remember about the hat. It was a subconscious routine I guess. I don't know how I did it, but it just felt right."

Neal didn't know if he should continue, but he wanted Peter to understand what he was feeling; why he did what he did. Why was he feeling guilty? Why did he want to explain?

"I felt...betrayed. I was mad…mad that you didn't trust me; mad that I remembered and you didn't tell me. But then…then I was…unprepared for this kindness…no one's ever done this for me before…I was confused…again…and then I felt humiliated…about my clothes, and I…I snapped…I wanted answers…I wanted you to feel what I feel…I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me…I wanted you to feel betrayed…I had to get your attention…I wanted to point a gun in your face and laugh at you, just like you did in my dream. I remembered where you kept your gun, but I didn't even know if I could still do it; I thought I was rusty and you'd notice…I haven't practiced in a long time, but it's just like riding a bike…"

Neal wished the floor would open up and swallow him to put him out of his misery. He paused to look up at Peter, expecting to see deep disappointment, but Peter's face was reflecting more compassion than he deserved.

"I would never have pulled the trigger. I just couldn't…"

"I know. You forgot to take the safety off."

Neal looked up at Peter with a shocked expression on his face.

"You just let me stand there and hold a gun on you knowing full well that the safety was on?"

"It seemed to be cathartic for you. You looked like you needed to work through some anger management issues. I was just trying to figure out which Neal you were…the Neal that doesn't like guns, or some crazy person that had gotten in your head and wanted to shoot me for trying to help. My gut was telling me you were the first one and that you wouldn't be able to pull the trigger. It also helped knowing you forgot to take the safety off."

Neal looked chagrined, but Peter put his hand on Neal's shoulder and looked straight into his eye.

"You accomplished what you wanted without hurting me. You got my attention, and you were able to talk through your issues, that's half the battle. I could tell that you wanted to trust me, but weren't sure you could. I understand why. You didn't involve any other agents, so I felt the situation was for the most part under control; otherwise I would have taken you down sooner."

Neal looked floored, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You really are always trying to protect me, aren't you?"

"Always protect your biggest and most valuable investment…especially if it's irreplaceable. I almost lost you. I don't want that to happen again."

Peter put his hand on Neal's shoulder and looked into his eyes with confidence trying to reinforce the concept.

"Now, let's get you home before you keel over. I think you've done enough for today. Elizabeth will be home soon enough to make us dinner."

"You aren't going to tell her are you?"

"Tell her what? That you're irreplaceable or that you held my gun on me?"

Peter inwardly cheered when he saw a smile slowly light up Neal's features.

"I told you, no one has to know. You can trust me. One question though…How on earth did you manage to hold the gun steady for so long?"

"Steady? I almost dropped it…twice. I thought you noticed."

"I was looking into your eyes to see what you were going to do. I was trying to ignore the gun."

"Oh…Peter? I don't feel so good."

"No. No, Neal, you are not getting my wallet this time. I won't catch you if you try and fall."

Neal's face lit up into a mega watt smile that Peter hadn't seen for months.

"I already have your wallet Peter."

"That's it. No cake for you."

"Come on Peter, Elle baked it because of me."

"I don't recall seeing a piece with your name on it."

"Maybe you should trying looking for it under a polarized light."

Peter laughed heartily and slapped Neal on the shoulder.

"It's good to have you back Neal."


End file.
